


Spread Your Wings

by beksdragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beksdragon/pseuds/beksdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I miss you, Arthur. I’ve seen so much already and every time I see something beautiful I wish you could be by my side seeing it too.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Merlin</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spread Your Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the postcardsforarthur tumblr, which is very cute and funny.

When Arthur met Merlin he knew immediately that he wasn’t the type of person to settle. Arthur had been working in Paris for a year abroad during his degree, teaching French kids English. He had settled into a comfortable routine. He went to a small café at the end of his street at the end of every week at 7pm. Merlin had caused a small crisis when he came in. His backpack – which was large enough to fit Arthur inside – had knocked into a couple’s table, sending their drinks spilling onto the table. He had turned to apologise and almost knocked a small elderly lady out with the same bag. The waiters were shouting at him in French to stay still, but Merlin didn’t speak French; or at least nothing past, “Bonjour, parlez-vous Anglais?”

 

Arthur had come to the rescue quickly and offered Merlin a seat at his table without thinking. At first he kicked himself mentally. Who in their right mind invited a complete stranger to their table? Arthur worked on a strict schedule. He ate at specific times every day, did the same thing every week, went to bed at the same time every night (except Saturdays, when he allowed himself another couple of hours of lying around his flat) and woke up at the same time every morning.

 

Merlin was new. Completely new. Arthur couldn’t fathom him out. Maybe that was why he had a momentary lapse in his better judgment. Maybe that’s why, when Merlin said he’d been travelling across the country and had nowhere to stay, Arthur offered up his sofa. Merlin graciously turned him down, but when Arthur insisted (he still can’t, to this day, understand _why_ , even though it would turn out to be the best decision of his life) Merlin caved and accepted the offer.

 

After that, Merlin had stuck around. They do say that Paris is the city of love, after all, and Arthur felt himself slowly falling for the man who had now become a constant addition to his flat. They travelled back to England together and Merlin left to visit his family in Wales with the promise of visiting Arthur ‘soon’.

 

It was with the memory of Merlin consuming his mind that Arthur spent the next year and a half finishing his degree and starting work in the capital city. He went back to his routines and never faltering from them.

 

He wasn’t expecting to see Merlin again at all – he had even began to fade from his memory – when he came home to find the man sitting on the wall outside of his flat, a Chinese takeaway and six-pack of beers in hand as well as that ridiculously big backpack he lugged around with him.

 

“I think I might stick around for a while,” Merlin had told him three hours later, “London’s a big place. There’s a lot to explore.”

 

“Well, you’re always welcome to stay here. As long as you need,” Arthur had replied.

 

Merlin beamed at him and made a toast to his kindest friend.

 

He did stay. For a very long time actually, much to Arthur’s surprise. And it only took a month for Arthur to kiss him for the first time. It was more cliché than he’d have liked. They were fighting about something ridiculous, Arthur didn’t remember what exactly it was now, and he backed Merlin into a corner. All Merlin could do was hit Arthur’s chest surprisingly hard. Arthur caught his wrists and slammed them against the wall either side of Merlin’s head before crashing their lips together. Luckily, Merlin kissed him back and they ended up falling into Arthur’s bed together. Neither of them got any sleep.

 

Merlin got a job at a café near Arthur’s office and Arthur went there every day for lunch. He gave Merlin a peck on the cheek in greeting and sat at the table in the back corner. Merlin would bring his lunch over then take his break to sit with him and talk about their mornings. That was suddenly the only routine Arthur had in his life. With Merlin in it, his life was a crazy mixture of spontaneity and surprise. He finished work at a different time every night, he had something different to eat every night, God only knew what time he’d get some sleep.

 

As happy as Arthur was, he knew that Merlin was slowly becoming a bird with no room to spread his wings. He quit his job. He started getting restless and easily agitated. All of Arthur’s life had led to the career that he currently had and, unlike Merlin, he treasured every day in it. His solution had been to take a holiday. Merlin almost died when he found out Arthur had taken time off work and interrogated him about whether he was absolutely sure it was the right thing to do. In the end, he hugged Arthur, cupped his face in his skinny hands, and pressed a gentle kiss to Arthur’s lips.

 

“I love you,” he had whispered before kissing Arthur again.

 

Arthur had smiled into the kiss and rested his hands on Merlin’s hips and mumbled, “I love you, too,” against Merlin’s plump lips.

 

The holiday had been to Rome. They had held hands the entire time, despite the dirty looks they got from the thousands of hardcore Catholics there.

 

Merlin’s wings had room to stretch out, to flutter so that Merlin had hovered above the ground, taking Arthur to new heights. It had been short-lived, though. Merlin’s feet were planted firmly back on the ground by the time they got home two weeks later, the taste of freedom still in his mouth.

 

When Arthur came home to Merlin sitting on the sofa in the darkness, silence drifting through the flat, he knew what was coming.

 

“I feel so trapped, Arthur,” Merlin had said, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, “I’ve never spent this long in one place before. Not even as a kid.”

 

Arthur had nodded in understanding and rested his hands on Merlin’s thighs, “I know. I understand.”

 

“Come with me,” he pleaded, covering Arthur’s hands with his own, “Please.”

 

Arthur sighed and leant his head on Merlin’s knees, “You know I can’t do that.”

 

It was Merlin’s turn to sigh as he placed a kiss on the back of Arthur’s head.

 

“I know. But I wish you could. I won’t go if you-”

 

“No, Merlin. Don’t make this my decision,” Arthur cut in, moving away from Merlin to look at him properly, “If you need to go, then go. I’ll be waiting for you.”

 

Merlin smiled sadly and squeezed Arthur’s hand, “You might have to wait for a long time.”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“You will,” he said quietly, and instead of replying, Arthur leant forward and pressed his lips to Merlin’s.

 

They made their last few days together count. Arthur took a few days off work and spent those days snuggled up to Merlin on their sofa, or in bed, or having dinner, or having sex. God, he was going to miss doing all of those things. He was going to miss waking up next to Merlin, looking at those happy blue eyes through the haziness of sleep. He was going to miss being handed a cup of tea every day before he left for work and having Merlin straighten his tie on his way out of the door. He was going to miss knowing Merlin would be waiting for him when he got home and knowing they’d talk about stupid things well into the night. He’d even miss the fights they had over the stupidest of things.

 

He left on December 17th.

 

Arthur pleaded with Merlin to stay for Christmas. He had even got down on his knees in front of him saying, “Don’t leave me on my own, please, Merlin. Stay with me for two more weeks.”

 

He didn’t. Arthur also pleaded with him to make a plan but Merlin had never been one for plans. He left Arthur in the middle of the airport in tears.

 

“I’ll write, I promise,” Merlin had said, his eyes shining with unshed tears, “I love you, ok?”

 

“I meant what I said,” Arthur replied, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

 

Merlin had reached up and traced along his cheekbone and Arthur leant into the touch.

 

“I know,” he whispered, kissing Arthur in a lingering and urgent way.

 

“I love you,” Arthur had choked out as Merlin turned to walk away.

 

“I love you too,” Merlin smiled over his shoulder.

 

The hardest thing Arthur had ever had to do in his life was let go of Merlin. To let him fly. He wasn’t selfish enough to lock him up and forbid him to go, not that he could have, but he was selfish enough to want Merlin to stay.

 

The first postcard came six weeks later. It was a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge and had a small message on the other side.

 

_I miss you, Arthur. I’ve seen so much already and every time I see something beautiful I wish you could be by my side seeing it too._

_Merlin_

 

The second was from Hong Kong, and read

 

_Arthur, I just spent the last three days eating a lot of raw fish. You should be glad you don’t have to kiss me, I taste awful._

_Merlin_

 

Except Arthur would have done anything to taste Merlin, just one more time.

 

He didn’t seem to be travelling the world in any sort of sensible order. One minute he was in the Americas, then Europe, then Asia, then back to the Americas and back to Europe again, maybe to Russia and then back to another continent.

 

Once, Arthur received a homemade postcard. It was more like a photo that had been written on the back. Merlin was clad in about seven different layers and had a hat pulled down to his eyes and a scarf covering his nose. His ears had been pushed inside the hat and suddenly Arthur ached to see them again. He was holding his arms out and behind him was a large expanse of white snow.

 

_Arthur, can you believe I’m at the North Pole?! Well, maybe not right at the North Pole but it’s out there somewhere._

_Merlin_

 

Arthur collected the postcards in a small shoebox and hid it under his bed. The only postcard he left out was one he had received from Rome. It was propped up against a picture of them both on his nightstand and said

 

_Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. It feels wrong to be here without you. I missed you so much I came back to the place that reminded me of you. Everywhere I look I can see a place we were together and I remember the feel of your hands in mine and your kisses and your voice. I miss seeing you every day. I don’t know if you still live where I’m sending these or if you’re still waiting for me, and I know it’s selfish, but I hope you are. I still love you, Arthur._

_Merlin_

 

Arthur had cried for a few hours after receiving that, not that he would ever admit it. He wished he could send Merlin something back. A shitty little postcard with a red bus on it just to tell Merlin that _yes_ , of course he was still waiting and he always would. And that he loved him more than he could ever put into words.

 

The day after he received that postcard, he left for Rome. He could only get a couple of days off but he still took the opportunity. He didn’t get what he wanted – didn’t see Merlin – he only found out exactly what Merlin meant. Everywhere he looked he thought of Merlin, and by the time his second day there was over and he was in the airport, he was glad to be going home.

 

By the time Arthur got back to his flat, another postcard was waiting for him, this time from Mexico.

 

The years flew by and Merlin managed to evade Arthur the whole time, but he always sent postcards.

 

_Arthur, you’d love Russia. One day I hope you’ll come here. I know you’d enjoy yourself. Maybe I can be there with you to see that shit eating grin that I love so much._

_Merlin_

_Arthur, I’m back in Paris! Sitting in the café we met in, remember that?_

_Merlin_

_Arthur, I miss you! New York is crazy and everyone is busy and bustling around and I’m surrounded by skyscrapers but all I can think about is you._

_Merlin_

_Arthur, the next time you get a day off you should organise a day trip. Go over to Wales, see my homeland! Maybe one day I’ll go back there. Maybe I’ll see you._

_Merlin_

 

Arthur put each one in his shoebox, until he couldn’t close the lid and bought a new box big enough to fit them all and then some. Which was handy, since he didn’t stop receiving them. Not for another year anyway. The last card Arthur got read

 

_Arthur, we should build a kingdom. Just you and I. We can do it soon._

_Merlin_

 

After that, he didn’t hear anything for four months. He started worrying, but how could he get a hold of Merlin when he had no idea where he was? So he worried in silence. It was all he could think about but having Merlin on his mind was nothing new for Arthur anyway.

 

In light of his impromptu trip to Rome, Arthur started making plans for the rest of his life. Without Merlin around his days became boring and his job was no longer enough to keep him happy by itself. In August, three and a half years after Merlin had left, Arthur quit his job and bought a new flat. He didn’t sell the old one. He kept it. Just to continue receiving Merlin’s postcards. But when Merlin didn’t send a postcard for two months, Arthur moved back in. He was eager to receive the next one, and by the end of the fourth month he was beginning to feel worried and depressed and didn’t really want to leave the flat.

 

He had ordered a pizza – a very big one – to drown his sorrows in and feel bad about the next day while he was at the gym working it all off. Arthur dragged himself up off the sofa to go down and have a cigarette (smoking was a terrible habit he had picked up in an attempt to relieve stress over the past two years, though he still never smoked in the house). When he opened the door he dropped all of his things, sending them clattering onto the wooden floor. Merlin grinned, his fist raised as if he was about to knock on the door, and launched himself forward to hug a very surprised Arthur.

 

It took a few seconds for everything to sink in, for Arthur to realise he wasn’t dreaming and it was actually happening, and for the hug to be returned. Merlin held on tightly, as if for dear life, and the feeling was definitely mutual.

 

“I missed you so much,” Merlin whispered, “I worried you’d be gone.”

 

The butterflies in Arthur’s stomach went crazy.

 

“Never,” he managed to choke out.

 

Arthur was the first to pull away, but only far enough so that he could see Merlin’s face. He lifted his hands up to brush away the tears on Merlin’s face.

 

“Promise never to leave me again.”

 

Merlin chuckled and leant his forehead against Arthur’s, closing his eyes for a second while he soaked in the moment.

 

“I promise never to leave you again,” he said quietly.

 

“And next time you want to go travelling you have to take me with you.”

 

Merlin raised his eyebrows and looked at Arthur through his lashes.

 

“And what about your job?” he asked.

 

Arthur only shrugged, “Don’t have one.”

 

“What?” Merlin asked, moving away from Arthur to look at him properly, “Who are you and what have you done with Arthur Pendragon?”

 

They didn’t move apart when a throat was cleared behind them. Arthur leant to the left to see past Merlin and smiled at the delivery man standing awkwardly behind them.

 

“One of your neighbours let me in as they were going out,” he clarified.

 

“Right,” Arthur answered, digging around in his pockets for money before swapping that for the pizza and sliding his free hand into Merlin’s, “Thanks.”

 

“Arthur,” Merlin said when he was dragged inside and pushed onto the sofa, “Arthur, what about your job?”

 

“Let’s not talk about that now,” Arthur answered when he sat down beside him with some beers, “I missed your voice. Talk to me.”

 

Merlin laughed, “Do I not get to listen to you?”

 

Arthur stared at Merlin for a moment, drinking in the features that he remembered and loved. The big ears, the plump lips, the messy hair, those stupid _gorgeous_ eyes.

 

“I waited for you,” he said eventually, reaching out to touch Merlin just to make sure he was real.

 

Merlin caught Arthur’s hand in his own and smiled, “Thank you.”

 

Arthur smiled and shook his head, “You always knew that I would.”

 

“Sometimes I thought that you’d move on,” Merlin confided, playing with Arthur’s fingers, “Sometimes I worried you would move away and forget about me and my postcards.”

 

Arthur put his slice of pizza back in the box and pulled Merlin up off the sofa. He led him through to the bedroom and pointed at the bedside table, where the postcard and picture once again took pride of place. Merlin’s mouth curved into a small wonky smile while Arthur routed around under the bed for his box.

 

“You kept it,” Merlin mumbled, more to himself than Arthur, turning the postcard over in his hands.

 

“Not just that one,” Arthur replied, placing the box on Merlin’s knee.

 

Merlin’s eyes widened, “You didn’t…” he whispered, but opened the box anyway and let a grin spread over his face, “Another reason to love you, as if I ever needed one.”

 

It was Arthur’s turn to grin.

 

“I told you I’d wait. And while I did I kept every piece of you I could find.”

 

Merlin leant forward and cupped Arthur’s face in his hands, pulling him gently forward for a kiss.

 

“I really do love you,” he mumbled against Arthur’s mouth, “And I’m never leaving you again.”

 

“You couldn’t even if you wanted to, I’m never letting you go,” Arthur answered, gripping Merlin’s wrists as if to prove his point.

 

Merlin smiled and kissed him again, before moving away and getting to his feet.

 

“Come on, the pizza’s getting cold. And we have a lot of catching up to do.”

 

Arthur followed Merlin like a besotted puppy. He was finally back. Arthur’s own beautiful bird who he could fly alongside and watch and appreciate and _love_.


End file.
